“Mr. Madison, you have to help me. I’ll pay anything you ask, but you have to help me.”
I looked at the little man with glasses standing in front of my desk. He was a little over forty, I guessed, and his immaculate gray suit and blue tie was pretty out of place in my neighborhood. He looked like one of those wimpy accountants you see in some movies, you know, the one who’s about forty. forty five, still lives with his mother and collects stamps for a hobby.
“Just call me Jerry, and if you’ll tell me what you need help with, I’ll see what I can do.”
I pointed to one of the chairs in front of my desk.
“Have a seat, Mr…”
“Winston, Theodore Augustus Winston, the third.”
“Have a seat, Mr. Winston, and tell me what the problem is.”
“It’s my girlfriend, Emily. She’s a vampire.”
I held back the chuckle because I could tell he was dead serious.
“Mr. Winston, I don’t think vampires really exist except in the movies. What makes you think she is one?”
“Oh, I don’t think she’s a real one, but she thinks she is. We have a date, every Friday night. We go to that smorgasbord restaurant on Broadway for dinner, and then come back to my house and watch TV until ten. That’s when I go to bed, so I call her a cab and she leaves. We always used to watch animal or history shows. Seven weeks ago, on our Friday date, Emily said she’d seen a bat in her attic and it scared her. After that, all Emily wants to watch are movies and those shows on cable about vampires.”
It sounded to me like Emily just had bats in her belfry, but I’ve known people who believed things just as strange. It was also a bit strange that Theodore didn’t take Emily back home after their date. Calling her a cab seemed a bit cold, to me anyway.
“From what I hear, lots of women like those vampire programs. I have a couple of friends who do. I have to admit I don’t understand why, but I don’t think that means she’s a vampire.”
“There’s more. On Sunday afternoon, we used to go to the park and feed the ducks. She won’t go anymore. She says the sun is bad for her. She also changed her hair from brown to black, and she hasn’t worn the little cross I gave her for a long time.”
“A lot of women change their hair color, and who can say why a woman chooses one piece of jewelry over another.”
“Emily used to wear dress pants and a frilly blouse on our dates. Since she started liking those vampire programs, she wears black dresses that don’t leave much to the imagination, if you know what I mean. And, she wears high heels now instead of penny loafers.”
“Most women have a black dress and wear heels sometimes. Maybe she just feels like dressing up when you go out.”
“She used to love the lasagna at the restaurant. Now, she won’t eat anything with garlic in it. She only eats the roast beef, and then she wants it as rare as they have. Last Friday, she had the server cut off a piece that was still dripping red juice.”
I could tell there was no talking him out of his suspicion. I’d have to prove it to him. It wasn’t something I really wanted to do. The cases involving lovers or spouses always end up hurting someone, but they make up a sizeable part of a private investigator’s income, so I take them as they come.
“OK, Mr. Winston, what is it you want me to help you with?”
“I need some proof so I can confront her. If I asked her, she’d just deny it. We’ve been dating for six years. In a couple more, I’ll be due to be made a partner in the investment firm where I work. I thought we might get married then, but the other partners wouldn’t ever make me one if they knew I have a girlfriend who’s a vampire. I’d have to break it off. If she isn’t, maybe I can get her to go to a psychiatrist and get back to a normal woman again.”
I told him my fee, and Theodore didn’t blink. He pulled a stack of hundred dollar bills from his billfold, counted out six, and handed them to me.
“I brought some cash, just in case. I hope cash is acceptable.”
I spent the next half-hour getting some information about Emily so I’d know who to look for and where to look. As he shook my hand before leaving, Theodore asked how long I thought it would take.
“Today’s Monday. It’ll take at least a week to see where she goes and what she does. If I don’t have anything by next Monday, I’ll give you a call to see if you want me to keep going.”
Once he’d left, I thought about out how to prove his Emily was either a mostly normal woman or one a bit confused about her species. As Theodore had already figured out, if I just walked up to Emily and asked her if she thought she was a vampire, she’d just say no, and probably hit me with her purse. Her answer wouldn’t satisfy Theodore and I don’t enjoy getting hit with a woman’s purse. It’s happened to me more often than you’d think, and a woman’s purse tends to be heavy and filled with things with sharp corners, at least the ones I’ve been hit with feel that way.
No, I’d have to get some pictures and video of her doing not just normal things, but things a vampire would or wouldn’t do. That was going to be a first for me. Most of the time I’m watching a subject, I’m looking for them to do things they’d rather not be seen doing.
Emily Chandler was thirty-two, at least that’s what Theodore said. She’d never told him her real age. He’d had to look at her driver’s license when she was in the ladies room at the restaurant to find that out. She lived in a small house out on North Stanford Avenue in Nashville.
Emily was about his height, said Theodore, so I’d written down five-six. He had no idea of how much she weighed, but he said she had a nice figure. I wasn’t sure Theodore would know a nice figure if he saw one, but given her age, I put her down as about one ten, maybe one twenty if Theodore’s idea of a nice figure differed from mine. I tend to like my women to be a little round.
I’d written her hair color down as brown, but I had no faith in that. She’d already changed it to black, and tomorrow she could easily be a blonde or a redhead. The length of her hair could also change, but Theodore said it was about shoulder length.
He’d given me a phone number. I ran it through the reverse phone number site I use, and it came back belonging to Emily Chandler of 1265 North Stanford, just like Theodore had said. At least I didn’t have to look for her before I could start watching what she did.
My stomach was telling me it was time to have dinner, so I walked down the block to Joe’s Burgers and Barbecue, like I usually do.
One of the things I really like about Joe’s is that nothing ever changes. Going into Joe’s is like putting on a favorite pair of jeans - you know, the pair that are faded almost to white in some places and have a hole in the right front pocket so you can’t carry change there, but fit just right. Joe’s fits me the same way.
It’s about as fancy inside as any small bar, just several neon beer signs on the walls, a row of booths down one side, some tables in the middle and the bar with bar stools on the other side. The bar is the queendom of Audrey Cunningham, the owner of Joe’s and a good friend of mine.
In the back is the kitchen where Gloria Morrison works. Gloria is also a good friend of mine, and as she once put it, we have benefits. The benefits came about after Gloria helped me on a case, and they’re some great benefits. I took her to a swinger’s club to get some pictures for a client. I got my pictures and Gloria got all aroused, aroused enough she dragged me into her bedroom when I took her home.
I have to admit that “dragged” is way too strong a word since I didn’t really resist. Gloria is on the near side of fifty but looks more like forty. Gloria is also one of those women who, as she got older, didn’t put on much weight except for her breasts. I don’t know her bra size, but each one is a very erotic handful and then some. Once Gloria is excited, she’s fantastic in the sack. She’s just as fantastic the next morning, too. She’s helped me a couple of times since, and the results are always the same. She fucks me senseless that night and the next morning. I go home, sleep all day, eat something, and then sleep some more. By the next morning, I can function almost normally again.
Audrey is a woman most people would consider tactless, outspoken, and somewhat aggressive. Audrey never sugarcoats anything. When she says something the words aren’t all that difficult to understand. She also usually says what she’s thinking at the time, and she isn’t bashful about telling anyone what she thinks about anything, especially if they piss her off.
Pissing off Audrey is not all that difficult to do. A couple years ago, a new guy walked into Joe’s and ordered a screwdriver. After Audrey had mixed it and brought it to him, he winked at her and tried to flirt a little.
I wasn’t there at the time, but Gloria filled me in on the details. According to Gloria, the guy said something along the lines that Audrey’s sexy ass would look really great shaking like that when she rode his cock. Audrey looked him in the eye, smiled that little wry smile of hers, and asked if he wanted his cock ridden bad enough to let her cut it off and nail it on a board first. Gloria said he didn’t even finish his drink before he left.
That makes her my kind of woman, well, one of my kinds of women anyway.
Audrey’s in her forties, good looking but not what I’d call beautiful, and her figure is round in all the right places. Gloria’s breasts are a lot bigger than Audrey’s, but I’ve yet to find a breast I didn’t like. I’ll probably never get the chance to make a personal comparison. I know Audrey too well to ever suggest I’d like to do anything even close to that. I like my balls right where they are.
Anyway, Gloria brought my burgers and fries without me having to order, just like Audrey brought my double shot of Endenmoor single-malt, neat. Audrey just said “HI”, and walked back to the bar. Gloria sat down in the chair opposite me, perched her big breasts on the tabletop, and asked if she could help me sometime soon.
“Well, Gloria, maybe. You know anything about vampires?”
“Oh, I know lots about vampires. I record all the vampire shows on cable so I can watch them when I get off work.”
“So, what would a female vampire do all day?”
“Well, let’s see. She’d spend most of the time dressed in something that shows a lot of her boobs, and the rest naked and having sex with a hunky man vampire. That’s if she’s a vampire back in the middle ages. If she’s a modern vampire, she’d look just like any other woman until it got dark. Then she’d wear a black, leather corset that shows a lot of her boobs, with black fishnet stockings and high heeled boots unless she met a hunky man vampire. Then, she’d get naked and have sex with him. Oh, and most vampire women like other vampire women too. Can I get naked if I help you?”
“No, no, I wouldn’t ask you to do something like that. I don’t know what I’d need your help with yet. I’m just getting information.”
“You wouldn’t have to ask very hard. I think getting naked with you is fun.”
“Yes, I know. You would and I wouldn’t mind that either, but this is work, not fun. Now, what else do you know about vampires?”
“I heard at the club that there’s a group in Nashville for vampires. A few of them do drink blood, but most are what they call psychic vampires. They believe they can feed off the energy of other people instead drinking blood. Some just like dressing up and acting like a vampire. It’s called cos-play.”
“It means costume play. Cos-play is like Halloween, only for grown-ups. Didn’t you know about the big convention they have in Nashville every year?”
“I guess I missed that one.”
“Well, you go dressed as your favorite superhero, or as someone from your favorite movie or TV show. Last year, I bought a red corset and some black leather shorts and went as a pirate. I already had the black stockings and boots. Some of the young guys tried to pick me up which I thought was just wonderful, but I didn’t go with any. I just can’t see myself with a man young enough to be my son. I did get my picture taken with several of them though. Wanna see?”
I got this mental image of Gloria in a red corset and black stockings that stopped a few inches from the little black shorts. She’d have been as erotic as all hell. I figured if a couple guys had tried to pick her up, there were probably a couple hundred who’d considered it. When Gloria held her cell phone up for me to see, I revised that estimate to include every man at the convention who wasn’t blind or gay.
The guys in the pictures were all grinning. I was pretty certain that was because Gloria’s breasts were barely contained by the corset. The two delicious looking mounds they made above the red satin was enough to give my cock a twinge. Her long legs and little shorts just completed the picture of a woman who’d be a real adventure in bed. I was grinning too, I guess.
“Jerry, I think you liked my costume.”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? It had you in it. I’m just sorry I couldn’t have been there.”
“If you had been, you could have dressed up like a pirate captain and picked me up.” Gloria winked at me and grinned. “I’d have let you use your sword on me.”
“Uh…I can’t really see myself dressing up as anything.”
“It was fun. You should try it sometime. The next convention’s in two weeks. If you want to go, I’ll make you a costume that matches mine.”
“I’ll think about it, but I’m not gonna wear leotards or anything like that.”
“They’re called tights, and they’d show off your assets.”
“My assets are doing just fine in my jeans. Now, what else do you know about vampires, modern ones that is?”
“It’s a New Age thing. You do know about New Age don’t you? Probably not. Well, anyway, they dress up in Goth - do you know anything about Goth? No? Well, Goths wear clothes from Victorian times. Women wear those big fancy dresses with low necklines. There are some women who wear a lot of leather instead, like my pirate costume. Most of the women look really sexy. The men wear suits with tails and top hats, and some of them wear cloaks. They’re pretty hot too.”
“That’s all they do, just dress up?”
“Oh, no. Vampires are really sexy, and they have sex, a lot of sex. When I watch my vampire shows, I get all excited. I’m kinda getting excited just talking about them.”
I could tell where this was going to go if I didn’t head it off. It wasn’t that I’d have minded going home with Gloria. I’d have loved doing that, but I had work to do.
“Well, you’ve given me a place to start, I think. I need to go home and think some more, but if I find a way you can help me, I’ll be sure to ask.”
“I like helping you almost as much as I love what comes afterward. Uh-oh, Audrey’s coming over. I probably should get back in the kitchen.”
Audrey tapped me on the shoulder.
“You want another scotch, or are you gonna go ball Gloria on the prep table in the kitchen first?”
“Audrey, I am going home to work. I have a strange case, and Gloria seemed to know a lot about it. That’s what we were talking about.”
I told her about Theodore and his girlfriend. When I’d finished, Audrey laughed.
“She’s actually stayed with that wimp for six years…and he hasn’t proposed? She’s not a damn vampire, she’s a fucking masochist.”
“Theodore didn’t seem like the type to make quick decisions. He also didn’t seem to be very fast at understanding things. It took him seven weeks to figure out something was wrong and come ask for help. As for her being a fucking masochist – she may be a masochist, but I don’t think they’ve ever gotten quite intimate enough for the other part. He was more worried about how her being a vampire would look for his career than he was about losing her.”
‘So, you gonna have Gloria help you on this one? She’s been a little tense lately. She needs someone to settle her down again.”
“I know you two’ve been going to the swinger’s club every Sunday night. I figured Gloria was getting all the sex she could handle.”
“Oh, she does all right there, but I’ll let you in on a little secret. For who the hell knows what reasons, you’re her favorite. You keep her happy until she gets over you, you hear?”
I went home and tried to think, but the pictures Gloria had shown me kept popping into my head. Finally, I gave up and went to bed.
The next morning, I started doing my own research on modern vampires. It’s amazing how something like that can go on right under your nose and you never hear about it. Maybe Gloria is right and I do need to get out more.
The article I’d found about the costume play thing was proving interesting, especially the pictures. The guys were mostly mysterious looking and had evidently used eye makeup to look that way. The women…
I remember reading once in a history class that the Victorian Era was extremely prudish in public, and randy as all hell behind closed doors. It was easy to see why. The women who wore dresses sported a huge expanse of chest. When combined with the corsets they wore, those low necklines made for some very enticing cleavage.
Apparently, some of the vampires also have crossed over into leather. I was just getting into seeing women wearing leather corsets with leather thong panties and black stockings in tall leather boots when a woman walked through my office door. I quickly closed up the laptop.
“Yes, Ma’am. May I help you?”
She was in her late thirties I figured, and the tight jeans and stretchy tank top told me she probably spent some time doing aerobics or in a gym. Her voice was low, and had that Tennessee accent I love so much. It wasn’t the nasal, high pitched voice normally associated with bluegrass music. I like bluegrass, but I like my women to sound mature. This one’s voice was as smooth as twelve year old scotch, and low enough to be sultry even though she wasn’t trying to be.
“Oh, I do hope so. I didn’t know where else to go. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, let’s start with your name.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just so upset by all this I forgot to introduce myself.”
She held out her hand.
“I’m Gayle Montgomery. Actually, it’s Gaylindorn. My Daddy thought that name would fit his little princess when she grew up, but it sounds really old to me, so I go by Gayle.”
‘OK, Gayle. What’s your problem?”
“I have a friend who likes going to those adult web sites, you know, the ones where you can post pictures of yourself in sexy clothes or in nothing. She kept telling me if I did what she does, I’d make a lot of new friends. Well, I don’t need anybody enough to put up pictures of me in nothing, so I just ignored her.
“Two weeks ago, she called me to say how hot my pictures looked, and wondered how many private messages I’d gotten. I was just floored. I’ve never taken a picture of myself naked or had anybody take one, even when I was married.
“I went to the site where she puts up her pictures and looked for the name she said I was using. Well, there I was. In some of them, I had on my PJ’s, and in some, my bra and panties, but there were others…let’s just say I was embarrassed to tears. I immediately emailed the site and told them I hadn’t posted the pictures and I wanted them taken down. They said they would.
“I went back that night to check and they were gone, so I figured it was over. The next day, my friend called me again to ask why I’d changed my nickname. She said if I kept changing it, people would lose track of me. As soon as I got home from work, I went to the site and there they were again, except they were posted under a different nickname, and they were different pictures. I emailed the site again, and told them the same thing. Their answer was if I didn’t want my pictures up, I should stop posting them because they weren’t going to keep taking them off the site.”
“Where are you when these pictures get taken.”
“I’m in my own house. Some of them are in the living room, some are in my bedroom, and a few are even in the bathroom.”
“Gayle, you need to go to the police. Taking your picture outside when you’re in plain view of anybody is legal. Taking pictures inside your home isn’t.”
Gayle looked almost ready to cry.
“I can’t go to the police. It would probably get in the papers or on television if I did, and I can’t have that.”
“I doubt something like this is news enough to even warrant a couple of lines on the back page.
Gayle looked at me and smiled.
“You didn’t recognize my name, did you?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Ever heard of M&M Construction?
“Sure. They’ve built several buildings around town, and I think they did several major renovations after the flood.”
“The M’s are for Montgomery and Montgomery, my grandpa and my daddy. Daddy runs the business now, and he’s not very well liked in some circles. Because he has his own people instead of subcontracting everything, he usually undercuts the bids from other contractors and gets the city’s business. They’d love it if his daughter filed a police report for something like this, and they have enough connections to make sure it gets into the news. He wouldn’t get any more city business.”
“You’re sure the pictures are from inside your house?”
“Well, then somebody has planted video cameras there. I can find the cameras for you. That won’t tell me who did it, but it will stop that person from getting more. Will you be home this afternoon? I’ll bring my equipment and have a look.”
About two, I pulled into Gayle’s drive and switched on my remote camera receiver. I have remote cameras I use for surveillance, and my receiver scans the frequencies the FCC has authorized for that use. If there were cameras transmitting from inside Gayle’s house, I’d shortly be seeing what they saw. In less than a minute, six different feeds popped up on the spit display screen. All the ones Gayle had told me about were there, along with one looking at the pool in her back yard, another in her kitchen, and yet another that seemed to be inside another bedroom. I shut the receiver down and fished in my gear bag for the little receiver that plugs into my cell phone. Once it had found the six cameras, I stuck it in my hip pocket and walked up to Gayle’s front door.
Gayle had changed her jeans for some little shorts that almost showed her ass cheeks, and the tank top was now just a band that covered her breasts. She was barefoot and her toenails were painted pink.
“Come on in. I sure hope you can find out what’s going on.”
I smiled, partly because I knew what was going on, and partly because Gayle was about as soft and delicious looking as they come. She was under my age limit by a couple of years, but that limit’s more of a guideline than an actual limit.
“I already know what’s going on. It’s like I said, you have cameras hidden in your house.”
I pulled the cell phone from my back pocket .
“Here, have a look at your house from the inside.”
Gayle nodded her head as I toggled through the pictures. When she saw the picture of her kitchen and the one of her pool, she said she’d not seen any pictures posted of those places. When I got to the one of the other bedroom, Gayle gasped.
“Oh, God no, not here too. It’s just luck that she’s been in Memphis visiting her mother this last month.”
I was confused.
“Who’s in Memphis?”
Gayle turned the brightest shade of pink I’d ever seen a woman turn.
“I can’t tell you. If it got out, Daddy would never get any more business.”
“It might be important, and our relationship is a lot like that between a lawyer and his client. I’d lose my license if I went around telling people about my cases. Of course, I can’t lie to the police, but anybody else is strictly off limits. Besides, I make my money by being discreet. If people thought I’d tell anybody about their situations, they’d never come to me.”
Gayle sighed and plopped down on her sofa.
“She’s Marissa Helm. We’re…we met during my divorce. She was my lawyer’s secretary and we seemed to hit it off. After the judge ruled, I was happy, but I was also pretty depressed if that makes any sense. I mean, there went eight years of my life down the tubes, eight years I could have used to do something. Marissa sort of took me under her wing. She’d been divorced too, and knew how I felt.
“We started having dinner together a couple nights a week, and then one Saturday night, she talked me into going to a bar with her. The band was really good, and the wine was even better. I had a little more to drink than usual, and Marissa didn’t think I should drive myself home. She left her car in the lot and drove me home in mine.
“She was really nice about the whole thing. She helped me get undressed and into bed. Then, before I knew what she was going to do, she kissed me on the lips. It was just a soft little kiss, but it sent tingles down my spine. I asked her why she’d done that. She just smiled and said I looked too kissable to resist. Then, she kissed me again.
“I knew it was wrong but it felt so right. I kissed her back, and…well…she spent the night. After a month, she moved into one of my spare bedrooms, the one where the camera is. You probably think I’m some sort of pervert.”
“No. One of my best friends likes girls and I don’t think she’s a pervert. I can’t say I understand the whole thing, but if that’s what you like, who am I to judge?”
“Most men wouldn’t be so nice. I’m glad you were, even if you don’t really believe what you said.”
I sat down on the sofa beside her.
“Gayle, what I believe is that you have to chart your own course by what feels right to you, not by what somebody else thinks is right for you. If you wanted to strip naked and run through the convention center that way, I might think you were a little nuts, but I never say you shouldn’t do it. Now, let’s go find those cameras.”
The cameras were easy. All I had to do was turn around until I saw myself face-on and then walk forward until the camera was only inches away. They weren’t hidden very well either, as if some one without much experience had planted them. It was only because Gayle had so many frilly little knickknacks and plants in the house that she hadn’t found them before.
In Gayle’s living room, the camera was hiding between her cable box and a DVD player on the shelf under the TV. I put a piece of the black electrical tape I’d brought with me over the lens and my phone went black.
The others weren’t all that difficult to find, either, thanks to the receiver plugged into my cell phone. In her kitchen, the camera was taped to the side of a cookie jar that sat on the top shelf of an open cabinet. The one looking at her pool was in some bushes.
The bedrooms and bathroom cameras had been harder to hide, but the person who did manage to do a pretty good job. The bedroom camera had a view of Gayle’s bed and the closet on the other side, and was hidden under the arm of a big doll on her dresser. In the bathroom, the camera was tied to one leaf of a potted plant, and had a view of both her tub and toilet. The camera in the other bedroom, the one where Marissa apparently stayed, wasn’t really hidden at all. It was just taped to a mirror opposite the bed.
I covered the last camera lens and Gayle breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, I guess that’s done. Now all I have to do is get that site to take down my pictures again.”
Something had been bothering me that I needed to discuss with Gayle.
“Gayle, these cameras all run off batteries, and the cameras aren’t cheap. Whoever planted them here must have been planning on coming back to either change the batteries or to pick them up. Who has access to your home when you’re not here?”
“Well…nobody except Daddy, and he’d never, never do something like this.”
“There’s something else. The range of the transmitters is about a hundred feet at best from inside a house, and probably less. It almost had to be one of your neighbors. Did you move here recently? Maybe one of them had a key from the prior owner.”
“No. I’ve lived here for six years, and Daddy insisted he change all the locks for me the day I moved in.”
“Well, there has to be a receiver somewhere close. I’m going to have a look outside.”
We walked out her back door and then all around the house while looking at the houses within what I thought would be the maximum range of the camera transmitters. I found what I was looking for in the house across the street. That house had a wireless security camera at the front door and another one on the garage looking down the driveway. If the owner of that house had a scanning receiver like mine, he might be able to pick up the signal from at least some of the cameras.
When I thought about it some more, it made sense. Gayle’s living room and her bedroom and private bath were in the front of the house. The other bedroom, kitchen, and pool were in the rear. The three camera transmitters in the rear of the house probably weren’t powerful enough to reach across the street. The ones in the front of the house would.
I pointed to the house.
“Your voyeur probably lives there, Gayle. Do you know the people?”
“Yes. That’s Mr. Sherman and his wife, but I doubt it’s them. He teaches high school science, and she teaches kindergarten. They’re both at least fifty.”
“Could either one of them have planted the cameras?”
Gayle shook her head.
“I don’t see how. They’ve never been in my house.”
“Well, let’s try something.”
I went back inside and uncovered all the camera lenses, and then went back out with my cell phone and receiver. I walked in the direction of each of Gayle’s neighboring houses until I lost the signal.
It was as I’d figured. I couldn’t pick up the cameras in the back of the house any further than the end of her pool, and I was still in her side yards when I lost the signal from all of them. Only in the front was the signal strong enough I could walk across the street and up to the front of the house with the front door camera. That was only because both Gayle’s house and the house across the street had only about ten feet of front yard.
“It has to be that house, Gayle. The signals wouldn’t reach any of your other neighbors, especially since they’d have to make it through the walls of the second house too. I have enough probable cause to let the police get a search warrant if that’s what you want to do.”
“No, just take the cameras out so they can’t get any more pictures. I’ll talk to my lawyer about getting them off the website.”
“OK, if that’s what you want but we ought to give them a little warning about what would happen if the pictures show up there again, or on any other website. Got a piece of paper and a marker?”
Gayle stood in front of the camera in her bedroom holding my sign for five full minutes. That would keep the image on screen long enough nobody would miss it if they were just scanning for the good stuff. My sign said Gayle had hired a private investigator who had tracked down the person who’d been putting her pictures on a web site, and that if those weren’t removed or if any more were posted, she’d contact the school board with the investigator’s report.
Once that was done, I collected all the cameras. I was removing the one in the other bedroom when I noticed something odd. There was a brown lamp cord running from a wall outlet and under a closet door. I asked Gayle if she’d open the door.
Inside on a small table was the receiver for the cameras and a laptop computer that was on and connected to the receiver through an ethernet cable.
“Gayle, it looks like we found who planted the cameras. It had to be Marissa.”
Gayle walked into the closet, and came back with a piece of paper in her hand. She handed it to me.
“I guess you’re right.”
In the flourishing hand of a woman was a note from Marissa telling Gayle not to be upset that she’d put the cameras around the house. Marissa said she knew she’d miss Gayle, and just wanted to be able to see her at night before she went to bed. Marissa had set things up so she could access the receiver through the internet via the laptop connected to it.
“Well, at least you know nobody’s been inside your house.”
“I don’t know whether to be mad at her, or to feel great that she wanted to see me every day.”
“I don’t think she meant any harm. She probably just didn’t realize the cameras transmit in every direction and not just to her receiver. I wouldn’t be too hard on her. It seems pretty innocent to me. You probably should call her, though. She’ll know you found the cameras and shut them off. If you don’t call, she’ll think you’re upset with her.”
“She’s coming back tomorrow and I’ll call her to say I’m not mad. How much do I owe you?”
I had to think for a minute. Other than one ad in the phone book, I don’t really advertise because I don’t have to. Most of my clients are people who know other people I’ve helped. I don’t know many lesbians, but like Gayle, the ones I know would rather keep their private lives private. They wouldn’t be eager to approach one of the big investigation firms in Nashville if they had a problem. If she could tell her other friends about me, I might get some more business. Besides, this job hadn’t taken me much time, and I liked Gayle.
“Well, I only spent a couple hours here, and I usually charge a hundred a day. That works out to about twenty bucks. When Marissa comes back, why don’t you two drop by Joe’s Burgers and Barbeque some night and buy my dinner and we’ll call it even. I think it’d be worth twenty to meet the woman who put all this together. We could also say you’ll both keep me in mind if any of your friends need a private investigator some time. Except for an ad in the phone book, word of mouth is my only advertising.”
Gayle shook my hand and assured me she’d give my name to anyone she thought needed my kind of help. She waved as I backed out of her drive, and the soft wobble of her breasts in the tube top almost caused me to back into the car parked on the other side of the street. On my way home, I found myself becoming very jealous of Marissa.
As I finally figured out, while there is a lot of information on the web about vampires, there’s almost nothing about where they go to do their thing, whatever that is. Gloria had said their thing was dressing up and having sex. All I got from searching for “vampire dressing” was game sites for teenage girls and sites for Halloween costumes. Typing in “vampire sex” filled my page with porn sites that I was pretty sure weren’t representative of true vampires. “Vampire convention” got me a little closer, but the conventions were just places one could go to meet the stars of the movies and TV shows about vampires.
They charged as much as three hundred for admission if you wanted to get your picture taken with the stars, around fifty if all you wanted to do was watch them from a distance. Even if Emily had wanted to go, there hadn’t been one in Nashville for three years, and none were scheduled that I could find.
Though it’s usually not my first choice, it was looking like I’d have to stake out her house to see where she went and when on the days she wasn’t working or with Theodore. He’d told me she worked as a student counselor at a junior college in town, so she’d be there most of the day during the week. That left nights and weekends except Friday night.
I had a few subpoenas to serve, so I took care of those in the afternoon. They all went pretty smoothly. All the recipients were mad about having to appear, but they didn’t take a swing at me or chase me down the street. At four, I was parked about a block down the street from Emily’s house and sitting on a stool in the back of my mini-van.
I use a mini-van for surveillance because it never looks out of place no matter where I park it. The mini-van is the vehicle of the married with kids set, so you’ll find them parked in front of houses, in shopping center parking lots, and even outside of bars. Just because a couple has kids doesn’t mean they aren’t up for a few beers once in a while.
Mine has a couple of differences from most. All the windows except for the windshield are dark enough it’s hard to see inside unless the sun is shining through the other side. I have black curtains I can pull over the windows to keep that from happening as well as a curtain between the front seats and the back. The seats in back are folded down into the floor, so I have a large space where I can set up a tripod for a camera or binoculars. There’s also a cooler that runs off a separate battery. I keep the cooler filled with bottled water, and I keep a couple of gallon jugs for getting rid of the same water if it’s a long stake out. Just to further avoid any curious people, I have one of those stickers with a man, woman, three kids and a dog on the back.
Anyway, I had my binoculars aimed at Emily’s front door and was watching the street from both directions. About four-thirty, a black SUV pulled into her drive, and a woman got out.
Her hair was black, just like Theodore had said, and she fit the description I’d written down, except Theodore was being conservative when he told me she had a pretty good figure. Her ass was just wide enough to be extremely sensuous, and her legs were long and slender. I didn’t have to guess at this, because her jeans fit like a second skin. I’d gotten only a glimpse of her top when she got out of the SUV, but what I saw was a clingy blouse that molded itself around some very nice breasts. Of course, she could have made them look that way with the right bra, but the way they swayed gently when she closed the door told me they were all her.
Emily unlocked her door and went inside. I stayed parked and watched her house until about eight. It didn’t look as if she was going anywhere, and I’d drunk enough water that one of my jugs was half full. After capping that jug because I’d learned from experience that was a pretty important step to take, I drove back home.
Gloria was her happy, horny self when she brought my burgers and fries, and mashed her breasts into my shoulder when she sat them on the table in front of me.
“Here you go, Jerry. Hope you like them.”
Gloria pressed her breasts against me a little harder and giggled.
“I mean the burgers. I know you like these. If you’ll let me help you again, you can like them some more.”
“Gloria, I would love to have you help me, but I’m still not sure how. I staked out her house this afternoon and once she got home, she stayed.”
“Well, she was probably tired from work. You need to try Friday or Saturday night. That’s when she’ll be going out, when she has a day to get rested afterwards and enough time to get ready. We girls take a while to get ready, you know.”
“I can’t even find anyplace she’d go. There don’t seem to be any vampire bars in Nashville, or any Goth ones either. There used to be two, but they’ve closed up.”
“I found one.”
“How? I must have looked at a thousand websites and didn’t find any.”
“Remember that I told you I heard at the club about a vampire group? Well I called Jolene the next morning. They do have a place in Nashville where they go. The place just doesn’t advertise that because some people wouldn’t like it if they knew vampires were going there. It’s called “V” and it’s out on the west side of town on Dinmore. They cater to anybody, but most of the people there are either goth or vampires or both. See, I can be a detective too. When do we go?”
“First, I’ll find the place, and then I’ll see if she goes there or not. If she does, then I’ll decide if we need to go inside and see what she does while she’s there. It won’t be Friday night. That’s the night she goes out with Theodore.”
When I got back home, I looked up the club Gloria had found. She was right that they didn’t advertise about catering to vampires, but there were plenty of pictures of people dressed in Victorian costumes on their site. The men looked a little strange. Most wore sloppy-looking ripped shirts and jeans and with a single hank of long hair dangling down one side of their head. A few were in the coat and tails of the Victorian age with a cloak and slicked back hair.
The pictures of the women at the club were pretty fantastic. Most of them looked very feminine in their dresses with full skirts. They were also very enticing because of the low necklines even though they had streaks of white or red running through their hair. The ones that weren’t wearing dresses were just plain hot. There’s just something about a woman’s legs in black fishnet and tall boots that trips my trigger, especially when those legs go all the way up to what amounts to just little leather panties. The leather corsets they wore didn’t hurt anything either. Black seemed to be a favorite color followed by red.
When I thought about the Emily I’d seen that afternoon, I couldn’t see her fitting in at “V”. Call it a gut feeling, but somehow, she just didn’t seem to be what I was seeing in the pictures.
For one thing, unless they were very good with makeup, all the men and women in the pictures looked to be in their early twenties. There wasn’t a wrinkle on any of them. A few of the women were a little overweight for my taste, but none of them had the sensuous figure of a woman of thirty-two that I’d seen with Emily. She wouldn’t have fit in, and I didn’t figure her for a techno-industrial music fan either. That’s what was threatening to blow the speakers in my laptop when I viewed the website.
The other thing that bothered me was her job. She could get a minor job at a junior college with almost any background, but counseling students is a different matter. The college would have checked her qualifications pretty thoroughly before hiring her to handle student’s problems with school or their personal lives, and that didn’t jive with her dressing up like a vampire on the weekends. Even if she had recently changed, as Theodore claimed, given the age of the people in the pictures, it seemed likely she’d meet some of the students at “V”. They wouldn’t keep her pastime a secret. The junior college board would quickly find out about her hobby, and she’d find herself without a job.
I decided I’d have to keep watching Emily for the rest of the week. If she was really into the vampire or Goth thing, she’d probably be into it more than just Saturday night. If she left her house, I’d follow her to see where she ended up.
Thursday was a light day for me. I didn’t have any cases to work or subpoenas to serve, so I loaded up my laundry and went downstairs to the laundromat on the first floor. There were two women there waiting for their clothes to finish washing and drying. I didn’t know the redhead, but I was pretty sure she ran the used clothing shop at the other end of the block. I knew the blonde. Her name was Sandy and she worked in the pawn shop on the other side of the alley. While I was waiting for my shirts to dry, the redhead walked over.
“You’re that PI who lives upstairs, aren’t you?”
“That’s me. I’m Jerry Madison.”
“I own the resale shop down the block. Ever been there?”
“No, I can’t say that I have. Why?”
“You ought to come in some time and see what I have.”
She’d winked just after saying that, and then smiled.
“You’d probably find something you’d like.”
I was trying to think of some reply that was innocent when Sandy walked over.
“Louise, are you hitting on this guy?”
“I just said he should come to my store and see what I have.”
“Honestly, Louise, you could at least introduce yourself before you ask him something like that. You ought to be a little more subtle about it, too.”
“Well, you try living alone for two years and see how you feel. You have a husband to take care of you.”
The blonde laughed.
“Yes, I have a husband. He works all day, watches sports on TV until ten and then goes to bed. The last time he took care of me, as you put it, was on our anniversary. That was three months ago.”
She turned to me.
“Don’t pay too much attention to Louise here. She’s been divorced for two years now, and she’s a little uh…tense.”
“I am not tense, Sandy. I’m just…well, when you haven’t been touched in a long time, it starts to get to you.”
“I told you what to do about that, remember?”
“Yes, and I’m spending a fortune on batteries.”
Louise smiled at me.
“You don’t need batteries, do you Jerry?”
About that time, the bell on my dryer dinged.
“Well, it was nice to meet you Louise, but my dryer’s done and I have some other things I need to take care of. I’ll see you around, maybe.”
“You remember to come to my store, OK? I’m sure I have something that’ll fit you.”
I dumped my shirts in my laundry basket and left as fast as I could without running. It wasn’t that Louise wasn’t good looking or didn’t have what I like in a woman. She was curvy in all the right places, and it didn’t take much imagination to believe she’d be pretty hot naked. I also like women who say what they want. It just felt a little awkward that she’d more or less propositioned me in front of Sandy. If Sandy hadn’t been there…well, maybe I should go down to the resale shop one of these days. I could use some new shirts, and Louise did say she’d have something that would fit me.
That afternoon, I got the oil changed on the mini-van and restocked my supply of water. At four, I was parked at the other end of Emily’s street and watching her front door.
At a little after four-thirty, Emily drove her SUV into her drive. She was wearing a dress today, and the high hemline gave me a good look at her legs. Either Emily worked out some, or she just had naturally gorgeous legs. Her ass did some wonderful things to that dress when she walked, too.
It was a little past six when she came back out. Instead of the big dress or corset and fishnets Gloria had predicted, she had on a white blouse that fitted her like a glove, tight jeans with rhinestones on each hip pocket, and red cowboy boots. I snapped a couple pictures as she was locking her door and walking to her SUV, and then got ready to follow her.
The sign on the building said “The Branding Iron”. Emily turned into the parking lot, got out, and walked up to the door. The bouncer at the door smiled and said something to her when she walked past him. Emily started to fish in her purse for something, but the bouncer just waved and opened the door for her. I knew what he’d asked. All of the bars in Nashville are very picky about ID’s because if they’re caught serving minors, they get shut down. The Nashville police have been known to go to bars and ask people to see their ID’s, so every bar makes sure people have them. Since the bouncer had just waved her through, I figured he’d seen her ID enough to know she probably had one with her.
My jeans and plaid shirt would fit in well enough, and the camo ball cap I dug out of the box of stuff I keep for just such times would make sure I didn’t get some odd stares. The regulars at these country western bars all know each other to some extent, and can be a little suspicious of a newcomer. This place looked pretty tame, but I wasn’t taking any chances. It hurts to be thrown out the door and land on your ass.
The bouncer checked my ID, and told me to have a good time. The girl at the counter popped her gum and then said “cover’s five”. After I paid her, I walked over to the bar at the side of the dance floor and found a stool with no drink or cigarettes on the bar in front of it and sat down. The tall blonde bartender made her way to where I sat, and as she leaned over the bar, her breasts welled up out of the low-cut tank top she wore. I figured those puppies got her a lot of tips.
“What can I do you for, Honey?”
I asked her for my favorite beer, and she reached down in the tub of ice in front of her and pulled one out.
I gave her a five and told her to keep the change. She grinned, and said when I wanted another one to just give her a wave.
A petite little brunette was teaching a line dance class on the dance floor. I saw Emily in the second row of dancers. She didn’t seem to be having much trouble and when the little brunette asked the DJ to play the song, Emily went through the steps without any bobbles that I could see. I’m not a dancer by any definition, but she looked really good. I especially liked the body rolls and hip wiggles the dance entailed. Emily’s body rolls were seductive as all hell, and her hip wiggles…well, it wasn’t difficult to mentally put those hips on top of me and imagine how they’d feel.
After an hour, I got tired of watching Emily roll her hips and shimmy her soft breasts. Well, tired isn’t actually the right word. I really liked those hip rolls and shimmy’s, but I was kind of hoping she’d plaster herself all over some guy during one of the slow dances so I could tell Theodore she was stepping out on him and be done. All she did during the slow dances was turn down every guy who asked her, and then sit at her table alone. About ten, she left. I waited a couple minutes and then walked out to the parking lot just as she was driving out onto the street. I caught up with her after a couple blocks, and then followed her home. Half an hour after she went in the door, her lights went out. I went home to have my evening scotch and go to bed.
At least I’d found out she had another interest besides Theodore, though I couldn’t imagine what interest she found in him. Emily was a diamond in Theodore’s coal pile. It was also difficult to understand what they might have in common or what brought them together in the first place.
The next morning, I slept in until about nine, just because I could. That’s one of the benefits of being self-employed. One of the drawbacks of being self-employed and having your office in your apartment is that you can still be in bed in your shorts when someone bangs the hell out of your office door.
Since my closet is usually the floor beside my bed, finding my clothes wasn’t a problem. Getting them on while hoping my office door wasn’t being beaten off the hinges made me dress a little faster than usual, and I didn’t mess with socks; I just pulled on my boots. The hammering had slowed a little by the time I opened the door.
She was really young, early twenties, I figured, judging by her face and slender body. It was easy to judge her face. Her soft, dark auburn waves framed a beautiful face, a face just as beautiful as you see on the covers of those magazines about movie and television stars. Her auburn eyebrows arched perfectly into a small, cute nose, and her full, pouting lips just begged to be kissed.
Judging her body was somewhat more of a challenge, though my years of experience at fantasizing what lay under women’s clothing helped. She was slender but not skinny. The sweatshirt she wore was appropriately feminine as were the jeans that fit tight enough to know there was a very delicious woman under both. Nothing about her said “fuck me right now”, but everything about her said, “if I let you fuck me, I’ll be more than you ever dreamed about.”
I guess I was staring, because she asked if I was going to let her in.
“Oh, sorry. Yes, come on in. How can I help you?”
“You’re Jerry Madison, right, the guy who helped Gayle Montgomery?”
“I’m Angela, Angela Marshall.”
She walked into my office like a female cat in heat. I suppose that was because of her high heels, but it was still mesmerizing. I closed the door and offered her a chair at the front of my desk.
“What can I do for you Angela?”
“Gayle says you’re discrete. I need to hear that for myself.”
“Gayle is right. Nobody will know what we talk about or what I do for you. I do use an assistant sometimes, but she would never tell anyone about what we do. You’ve never seen my name in the papers connected with anyone, have you?”
“No. I didn’t even know you existed before Gayle said you could help me.”
“Well, there you go. Besides, if I was in the business of blabbing about my cases, I’d not get any more. Usually people would prefer not to have their problems aired in public.”
“OK. I guess that makes sense.”
“So, what do you need help with?”
“It’s my mother. I think she’s senile, but I don’t have any way to prove it. I’m worried about what she’s doing.”
Warning bells started going off in my head. As soon as I hear the words “parents”, or “mother” or “father” used in the same sentence as “senile” or other words that mean the parent has lost contact with reality, I begin thinking about the money that parent has that the client would like to have now instead of waiting for the inevitable.
I don’t like getting involved in these things at all. Even if Angela was serious in her worry about her mother, sometimes people do change as they age, and do things that seem a little nuts to their kids. Their kids grow up knowing the man who taught them to ride a bike and fixed their broken toys, and the mother who taught them how to bake Christmas cookies and always had a warm hug when they needed one. When that father decides to take up skydiving, or that mother decides to take a cruise in the Caribbean by herself, they think something’s gone wrong.
“What makes you think she’s senile?”
“Mom’s been alone for five years, since Daddy passed. She’d always been involved in her sewing club and with one of the animal rescue places in Nashville, and kept that up afterwards…until about six months ago. She still sews, but she doesn’t go to the meetings any more, and she stopped going to the animal rescue place a month before that.”
“Maybe she just changed interests. People do that sometimes.”
“Oh, she’s changed interests, all right. Her interest changed from quilts and puppies to sexy clothes. You should see how she dresses – she shows a lot of her boobs and her pants are…well, they’re too tight for a woman her age.”
I was envisioning a grey-haired woman in a low-cut tank top and hip hugger jeans. That could be either scary or erotic, depending on the woman.
“Well, just how old is she.”
“She turned fifty six just last month.”
Fifty six wasn’t old, not in my book anyway, and it certainly wasn’t usual for a woman that old to be losing it.
“That doesn’t seem that odd to me. She probably just wants to attract someone’s attention. Does she have a boyfriend?”
“That’s the real problem. From what she says, she has several. She goes to this place…she calls it ‘Second Time’…she goes there every Friday and Saturday night to meet men. I think it might be a swinger’s club, because I stopped by one Friday night just as she was leaving. Her dress…well, it covered her up, but just barely. It was short enough if she bent over, I could see the clips on her stockings, and her big boobs were almost falling out. When I told her it looked a little racy, she just laughed and told me that’s how she used to dress when she went out with Daddy.”
My vision changed from graying hair and a few extra pounds to flaming red and those pounds being distributed equally between a nice soft, round ass and a pair of big soft breasts. I had to shake my head so I could think again.
“Well, what do you want me to do for you? I can follow her and find out if she’s doing anything that might hurt her or get her into trouble, but other than that….”
“I just need to know she’s not letting men take advantage of her, if you know what I mean. She doesn’t have a lot of money, but I’ve heard some men would take all they could get and then just leave. I don’t want that to happen.”
I got her mother’s name – Helen Marshall – a picture and address, and Angela paid my fee in cash. After she left, I made a pot of coffee, shaved and put on my socks while it was brewing, and then took a cup to my desk and typed “Second Time” into my browser.
I didn’t find anything named Second Time that sounded like a swinger’s club. In fact, I only found one place and it was called “The Second Time Around”. It was a senior citizen’s center run by the Nashville Park district. The web site showed older folks doing what I suppose they do when they’re not being grandmas and grandpas. There were pictures of people painting pictures, people playing checkers and chess, and people doing what I assumed was some sort of exercise.
I looked at their calendar for the month. Every Friday and Saturday night, there was a dance. In some of the pictures, the couples were swing dancing, that fifties dance done to late forties and early fifties music. In others, they were dancing close. In all of them, the couples looked like they were having a good time. It just didn’t look as if they were having the time Angela suspected they were.
It would have been easy to just drop by there on Friday or Saturday, take a few pics of Helen dancing, and then assure her daughter there was nothing going on except her mother enjoying herself. I’d have to stay until she went home so I could prove she went home alone, but that wouldn’t be all that bad. Some of the women in the pictures were pretty foxy.
The problem I’d have doing that was I don’t look old enough to fit in. Women can look just about any age they want by the use of make-up, a good hair stylist, and maybe some high quality underwear. Men…well, we look like we look. I didn’t have a bald spot, and I had no gray hairs anywhere. I had a few wrinkles on my forehead, but not enough to give me the character I saw in the pics. I’d have fit in about as well as the old saying about a whore in church.
There was a way I could get the evidence I needed and solve another problem at the same time. I’d have to wait until that night to propose my plan, but I was pretty sure it would be accepted and would work.
There was no point in following Emily since it was Friday and she’d be with Theodore. I cleaned up some paperwork, which meant I wrote the name of the client on a file folder, stuffed all my notes and pictures inside, and then put it in my file drawer. It was six by then, so I walked the two blocks down to Joe’s for dinner.
Audrey smiled and reached under the bar for the scotch she keeps just for me. A few moments later, she sat the double shot down in front of me, and then took the seat on the opposite side of the table.
“You got anything for Gloria to do yet?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well, it better be good, ‘cause she’s getting really hard to deal with.”
“All she can talk about is how hot and horny she’s gonna get when you take her to that vampire place and how many times she’s gonna fuck you afterwards.”
“Well, it’s not going to be the vampire club. I think she might like what I have in mind, though, if I ask her the right way.”
“You ask her then, but whatever it is, you make sure she gets the other thing she wants.”
“You know I always aim to please a lady.”
“Yeah, and I know if you don’t please Gloria, she’s gonna be crushed. Just don’t let her down, OK? You’ll be really sorry if you do.”
I promised I wouldn’t, and took a sip of my scotch as Audrey walked back to the bar. A few minutes later, Gloria swayed out of the kitchen with my burger basket.
“Hi Jerry. I got your dinner.” She grinned and scratched her left breast. “You got anything for me?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Gloria beamed a big smile, slid into the chair opposite me, and perched her breasts on the table top.
“Are we going to the vampire club? My corset still fits.”
“No, and I’m not going with you. I’m going to have you go solo on this one.”
Gloria looked sad.
“But I like going places with you.”
“And I like going places with you too, but I can’t go to this place. I’m not old enough.”
Gloria looked even sadder.
“So, I’m old enough? That must mean you think I’m really old.”
“No, it doesn’t mean anything like that at all. Just let me explain before you jump down my throat, OK?”
I told her what I’d found out about Helen and why I needed some pictures of what she was doing at The Second Time Around.
“So, all I do is just go in there, take some pictures and then leave?”
“No, I need you to stay until Helen leaves and make sure she leaves by herself. Her daughter is afraid some of the men are taking advantage of her. I need to show her if that’s happening or not.”
Gloria’s face brightened.
“Do I get to follow her home, like you do?”
“Well…I guess that’s OK, but not too close or she’ll notice.”
“How should I dress? I’ve never been to a senior citizens thing before.”
“Well, in the pictures on the web site, some of the women are dressed in pants and blouses, and some in dresses. Angela told me her mother dresses way too sexy for her age, so I think it’s up to you and how much attention you want to attract.”
Gloria grinned then.
“How do the men look in the pictures?”
“Like men. I didn’t really notice any really old men though.”
“Any young ones?”
“Gloria, it’s a senior citizens dance. They’re all over fifty.”
“So none of them will try to pick me up.”
I just grinned.
“Gloria, I said they were over fifty. I didn’t say they were dead.”
“OK, I’ll do it for you, but you have to do something for me in return.”
I knew the answer, but it was fun asking the question.
“And what might that be?”
“Well, you could make me feel desirable.”
“And how would I do that.”
Gloria picked her breasts up, slid off the chair, and walked around behind me. She bent over to whisper in my ear, and pressed her big breasts into my shoulder.
“You know what I want. I want you to make love to me…three times after we get to my place and then again the next morning.”
She straightened back up and grinned.
“Do you have an address for this Second Time place?”
Actually, I probably could have gone with Gloria and just waited in the minivan, but I still had to watch Emily for at least a couple more nights. Theodore didn’t seem like the type who would believe me based on seeing her doing line dances for one night.
At six that evening, I was parked in a different spot, but still close enough I could see Emily’s front door. At a little after six thirty, she walked out that front door, and it was a sure bet she wasn’t headed for The Branding Iron again. I could see Theodore’s concern for her dresses. This one was red, and was slit up the side from her ankles to almost her waist. The slit went high enough I couldn’t see how she could be wearing much in the way of panties. The top probably would have seemed pretty racy to Theodore as well. Her cleavage went deep enough I was pretty sure her bra was pretty unusual too. The dress had no sleeves, so her soft shoulders were exposed. When she got in her car, I started the minivan, and waited until she was a block away before following her.
After following her for a few miles, I watched her turn into the parking lot of another bar called “The Jazz Box”. The Jazz Box looked a lot more upscale than The Branding Iron. The parking lot was half filled with hi-end sedans, and here and there the fabric top of a convertible was visible. The couple just going in the door were dressed in what I call “conspicuous casual”. While the guy wasn’t wearing a jacket and the woman had on pants and a blouse rather than a dress, I didn’t think I’d find anything they wore on the rack at one of the department stores in the mall. I hoped my jeans and check shirt would get me in the door.
The girl at the door looked at me for a few seconds, but she took my ten and let me through. I found a table in a back corner, opposite the small, raised stage in front of the tables, and ordered a soda when the waitress came by.
I looked at every woman at every table, but I couldn’t find Emily. I was beginning to wonder if she’d spotted me and given me the slip when I heard the sounds of a band tuning up coming from behind the stage curtain. A couple minutes later, the chaos of notes became an old forties jazz piece, and the curtains opened.
Standing there in her red dress, in front of a microphone, was Emily. The band went through a short introduction, and then went into backup mode as Emily began to sing.
I’d seen movies about the clubs in the forties. The big bands of Benny Goodman, Glen Miller, Duke Ellington, and the other greats of the era played in those clubs and they all had a female singer. I loved that music and I knew how it should sound. The band and Emily could easily have been Benny Goodman and Peggy Lee.
They played for almost an hour before taking a break. Most of the band went to a table by the stage. Emily started walking in my direction. With each step, one long, svelte, nylon sheathed leg swept through the gap in her dress. The effect was sensuous and sophisticated at the same time. She stopped in front of me and stared for a few seconds.
“Do I know you from somewhere?”
My best defense in a situation like this is usually to play dumb. I’m quite adept at that, as Audrey is fond of telling me.
“I don’t think so. I’d remember somebody who sings like you do.”
Emily stared for a few seconds more, and then her face lit up.
“Yes, I do know you. Well, I don’t know you, but I’ve seen you before. You were at The Branding Iron on Thursday.”
Her face turned into a frown.
“You’re not stalking me like the last guy, are you?”
When your cover is blown, like mine had just been, it’s useless to keep trying to watch someone. They’re always looking for you, and will go to great lengths to avoid letting you watch. I decided to be honest. The worst that would happen is I’d have to give Theodore his money back.
“I’m not stalking you exactly. If you’ll sit down, I’ll explain.”
“I’ll sit down if you buy me a club soda.”
After the waitress delivered her drink and I paid her, I turned to Emily and gave her my business card.
“Emily, I’m a private investigator. My name is Jerry Madison, so you can check that out if you want. Your boyfriend, Theodore, asked me to find out something about you. That’s all I’m trying to do.”
I thought it strange that she chuckled.
“What was it Teddy wanted to know about me?”
“He thinks you think you’re a vampire.”
She laughed again.
“Well at least that worked.”
“You mean you want him to think you think you’re a vampire?”
“No, what I want is for him to stop asking me out. He’s so straight-laced I thought being a vampire might make him want to stop.”
“Why don’t you just tell him you don’t want to see him any more?”
“I can’t. His mother knows my mother, and between the two of them, they decided Teddy and I would make a great couple. My mom thinks he’ll have money one of these days so I won’t ever need anything and that we’ll have beautiful grandchildren. His mother thinks I’m pretty enough for her precious little boy, and we’ll have beautiful grandchildren. If I broke it off, Mom wouldn’t be happy and she’d keep reminding me I’m not getting any younger, and Teddy’s mom would probably stop talking to her. Besides, Teddy is a nice guy, a lot weird, but nice. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Well, I don’t know what to do now. If I tell him you’re just acting, he’ll want to know how I know that and I’ll have to tell him about The Branding Iron” and you singing in this place. If I tell him you really think you’re a vampire…well, he said he wanted to get you counseling if that was the case.”
Emily frowned again.
“Damn…I was hoping the vampire thing would do it. I don’t know what to do now.”
“Theodore said you’re a counselor. What would you tell one of your female clients if she said she had the same problem.”
“Well, I’d tell her she needed to think about how she wanted to spend the rest of her life, and to decide if it was with the guy or with someone else.”
“Sounds like pretty good advice to me.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s just a lot harder to do than say. Well, I have to go sing again. You gonna stick around or are you done with me?”
Emily finished the next set, and came back to my table. I had her club soda waiting for her. She sat down, took a few sips and then sat the glass down.
“Did you decide what you’re going to tell Teddy?”
“No, I was too busy listening to you. How did you start singing here instead of recording? You’re good enough to make some money doing this.”
“No, I’m pretty good, but there’s no market left for this music. I just like singing. One of the students I counseled, her dad plays bass in the band and they were looking for a singer. I auditioned, and they liked me.”
“Theodore might like it too.”
“Nope. He only listens to classical music, and he never goes to bars. He says they charge too much for the drinks and food. That’s why he always takes me to the smorgasbord. It’s cheap.”
“The Branding Iron? That seems like a long way from jazz.”
“It was just a dare from one of the students. She said she thought I was too up-tight to be a counselor, and dared me to go with her. I did, and found out I loved it. Helps keep me from getting fat from all the lasagna at the smorgasbord too.”
“Ah…that would explain the rare beef too.”
“Well, that, and did you ever know of a vampire who didn’t like blood? Oh God, can’t you just tell Teddy I’m tired of him and I’m screwing around or something?”
“He’d just want proof.”
“Yes, he probably would. Just tell him I like line dancing and I sing in a bar. We’ll see what happens.”
Emily went back to sing her last set, and I drove home. I figured Gloria wouldn’t be back from the dance yet, so some frozen chicken tenders were dinner. After a nightcap, I turned in.
The next morning, I wrote a report for Theodore. In it, I told him about Emily line dancing and what she wore, and about her singing and what she wore then. I also included the fact that I’d not seen her doing anything with any other men. It was short, but was basically all there was to tell. Emily wasn’t stepping out on him. She wasn’t acting like a vampire or doing any vampire-like things. She was just an ordinary, if pretty gorgeous and talented, woman doing what some women like to do when they’re not putting up with a boring guy like Theodore.
I asked him to come to my office at one so I could explain my report and refund some of his money. He knocked on my door at ten till.
“Mr. Madison, does Emily think she’s a vampire?”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Then why is she doing what she’s doing?”
“I don’t know that. All I can tell you is what I witnessed her doing.”
“Well, it couldn’t be worse than if she thought she was a vampire. What does she do?”
“On Wednesday night, she came home from work and stayed there. On Thursday night, she came home from work, and then went to a country western bar to line dance.”
Theodore turned a different shade of his normal pasty white, and his voice sounded like he didn’t believe me.
“To a bar, she’d never go to a bar.”
“Well, she did, and she danced, for three hours give or take. I watched her and took these pictures. Then she went home and stayed in the rest of the night. Friday night she was with you, I assume. I didn’t follow her that night.”
“Yes, we had dinner and then watched TV, like we always do.”
“Saturday night, she went to another bar, The Jazz Box, and sang with the band there.”
Theodore fell back against the back of his chair.
“You never know, do you?”
“That the woman you’re dating is really a floozy who goes to places that aren’t very nice.”
“Well, the country place isn’t much, but the jazz place is pretty classy.”
“It’s still a bar, though, and you know what happens in bars. Men are there just waiting to take advantage of women, and the women are worse. They dress up in sexy clothes to egg on the men. That’s what mother always says.”
“Well that’s what she did. I owe you a refund, I think.”
Theodore’s face brightened.
“Yes. I paid you six hundred for six days and you only worked for three. You owe me three hundred.”
I was going to mention the morning I’d spent writing the report and that it was worth at least fifty, but I didn’t really want to argue with Theodore. I just wanted him to leave. It sounded as if he thought what Emily had been doing was worse than being a vampire. I was hoping so for her sake. She’d been with Theodore for six years. My two hours with him had been enough to make me want to punch him on his pasty white nose. I couldn’t imagine what six years had been like.
About six, I went to Joe’s to see what Gloria had found out. When Audrey brought my scotch, she told me Gloria had gone back for the Saturday dance. I asked her why.
“Hell, I don’t know why. She just said she had a couple more things to take care of. You can ask her yourself on Monday.
My cheese burger was pretty good, but not as good as Gloria’s. I left after I finished it and the first scotch. I’d been looking forward to Gloria telling me what she’d found out about Helen, and I’d been looking forward to what that would probably lead to. That wasn’t going to happen, tonight anyway, and it was a little depressing.
I climbed the stairs to my office/apartment and met Louise, the red head from the resale shop coming back down. She smiled.
“There you are. I need some help.”
“Uh…what kind of help.”
“A couple months ago, I thought I had a shoplifter, so I had some cameras and a recorder installed in my shop. Yesterday, I was missing some more stuff, so I looked at the video, but I couldn’t see anything. I thought you might. Sandy says you do that at Christmas sometimes.”
It was better than watching an old movie, so I walked Louise back up the stairs and let her into my office. She pulled a DVD from the hip pocket of her tight jeans.
“This is the last twenty four hours, but I can’t find anybody stealing anything.”
I put the disk in my laptop and waited for it to boot. I didn’t have the same software as her camera system, so I had to go through the different cameras one at a time instead of seeing all six at once. That was going to take a while.
“What type of stuff are you missing?”
“Two dresses, I think. I don’t remember selling them, but they weren’t on the rack when I closed up.”
“Which camera can see that rack?’
“It’s number four, but I think six would work better. It’s in my dressing room so if anyone took a dress in there and then put their old clothes on over it, we’ll see it there. That’s how they usually do it, isn’t it, put their old clothes over the new things?”
It was time to tell Louise a little about surveillance law.
“Louise, it’s not legal to have a camera in there. Even if we see the shoplifter doing their thing, it won’t be admissible in court.”
“Oh…that must be why the guy who put in my cameras was a little funny about putting one there. Well, let’s look anyway. Maybe we can see it on another camera once we know who to look for.”
I pulled up the file for camera six, and set the playback to scan until the image changed. We sat there for about ten minutes looking at an empty dressing room before the laptop changed the playback to normal.
The woman was carrying a pair of pants, so I went back to scan. Another five minutes passed before the image started playing at normal speed. Louise walked around my desk and stood behind my chair so she could see the screen on my laptop.
“I think that’s one of my dresses”, whispered Louise. She leaned closer to me for a better look.
“Yeah. That’s the white dress with pearls around the neck.”
The next three minutes were sort of fun. The woman tried on the dress, then looked around, and put her other dress on over the white one. Then, she casually walked out of the dressing room. The camera caught her head scanning back and forth like a radar dish just before the curtain fell closed. Louise said “Damn…I’d never have suspected her. Let’s keep going to see if we can find out who took the other one.”
Going forward seemed to mean Louise pressing her breasts into my back a little more as each minute passed. As the rapid scan flashed by, her face got closer to mine as well. I was going to say something when the laptop dropped back to normal play again.
The clock time on the recording said five thirty six, and I knew Louise was already closed by then. At first, I thought maybe someone had hidden in her store, and then taken the dress and slipped out the back door. It only took one good shot of the red hair to tell me I was looking at Louise and not a shoplifter.
She didn’t waste any time taking off her clothes. The clock time said five thirty seven when she rolled her panties down her thighs, and then looked up at the camera and grinned. I turned my head and looked into Louise’s grin and flashing eyes. She pursed her bright red lips in a kiss, and then let them open again.
“See anything that’ll fit you?”
“Uh…I’m not sure. Are you sure you want something to fit me?”
“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Well, you know, sometimes things just happen to you and you have to do the best you can do. It doesn’t really pay to think about it too much. That only makes you confused. It’s better, I’ve found anyway, to just let things happen. It all seems to work out in the end.
I started to say that I thought we’d be more comfortable in my bed, but I didn’t even get the first word out. Louise tried to smother me with her mouth. When she finally came up for air, she’d nibbled both my lips, found my tongue and tried to tie it in a knot with hers, and in general, tried to inhale my mouth. She was breathing hard, too.
“Damn, that was good. Take off your clothes.”
“Wouldn’t you rather we went to my bed?”
“I don’t think I can wait that long.”
I’d have thought she was joking if she wasn’t unhooking her bra at the time. That and her panties were the only things she still had on. I had my shirt and shoes off and was working on my pants when Louise cleared a spot on my desk, hopped up on it, and spread her thighs wide.
“Come on Jerry. Hurry up.”
I stepped out of my jeans a few seconds later and was taking off my shorts when I heard Louise moan. A quick glance told me I hadn’t been fast enough. She had two fingers stroking the red curls over her lips. My shorts hit the floor at about the same time those fingers slipped inside her and she moaned again.
“God, I need to be fucked so bad.”
Evidently two years without real sex had quite an effect on Louise. As soon as I got close, the hand that had been stroking in and out of her red curls reached for my cock and gave it a couple yanks. Louise said, “It’s hard enough. Put it in.”, and pulled me forward.
Well, my cock wasn’t really up to par yet. I mean, it usually takes me more than the minute or so Louise gave me between the time she kissed me and she started pulling my cock to her soft lips. I got it in, after some work on my part and a lot of hip wiggles on Louise’s part, and once she had me buried in her wet warmth, the little guy stood up and took notice. So did Louise.
“Oh fuck…I’d almost forgotten how good this feels.”
I didn’t tell Louise, but the feeling on my end was really great, too. Louise was tight enough to keep things going, but wet enough to keep those things from coming to a head too fast, so to speak. I could make the slow, deep strokes that Louise seemed to really like, and help her out every chance I got.
I did try to help her out, though I don’t think it would have mattered much. Evidently, two years of doing without had sort of put her libido into overdrive. I wasn’t really driving. It was more like riding a roller coaster - you can hold on and enjoy all the thrills and scream your head off it you want to, but basically, you’re trapped in the car until the ride ends.
As soon as my cock was buried in Louise’s tight little box, she wrapped her legs around my waist to keep me there. I could stroke, but there was no way she was letting me get away. There was no way she was going to waste any other part of me either. She pulled my hand to her left breast, and shivered when my fingers brushed her nipple.
“You can pinch ‘em. I like that.”
The first little pinch was interesting. Louise rocked her hips into me hard and she moaned.
“Oh yeah…oh yeah. You can pinch harder than that, Honey, and I won’t mind a bit.”
I squeezed pretty hard the next time. Louise gasped, and her hips started writhing all over the place. I figured if pinching was good, pulling might be better, so I pulled up. Louise’s breast changed from a soft, rounded globe to a long cone. Her hips rocked into my stroke and she pulled me down tight with her legs.
Now, like I said, she was tight but wet, but having my cock pulled so deep, and with everything her hips were doing at the time…well, it was hard to stay in control.
“Louise, you need to slow down a little.”
“Nope, not this time. Just give my little love button a wiggle, and I’ll be there.”
It wasn’t all that little and my wiggle was more of a slight brush, but it was like lighting a short fuse on a cherrybomb. I’d just found the little nub, stroked the stiff tip, and was going to do it again when Louise cried out, wrapped her arms around my neck, and started to shake.
She didn’t tell me not to stop. I don’t think she could talk around all the little gasps and pants and cries that flowed from her open mouth as the wave swept her away. I felt her nails digging into my back when the first one hit. After that, I just held on and let things happen. I didn’t say anything either. It’s hard to talk when your cock is spurting as hard as mine was.
I was spent after three deep strokes. Louise just kept shaking. I guess it was one of those full body orgasms you see some women’s magazines at the grocery store promise to tell women how to achieve. Louise’s whole body did seem to be involved. She arched her back and her hips rocked up and down, and even when that sort of calmed down, she kept making these little “OOOOH” sounds and digging her nails into my back.
I could feel her passage sort of moving in and out when that happened, and it didn’t stop right away. Even after it did slow down, Louise would just hang there with her arms around my back for a while, and then she’d “OOOH” again, and her body would shake. It was the damnedest thing I’d ever seen.
When she stopped panting, Louise eased herself back down on my desk, looked up at me, sighed, and then smiled.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I thought it would be OK, maybe even good, but wow. I guess I was in worse shape than I thought.”
I smiled back and tweaked her left nipple.
“I think you’re in pretty good shape.”
“Then, let’s find your bed and you can show me how good you think it is.”
The bed wasn’t hard to find because it was just through the door and down the hall from my office. Getting Louise in the bed was a bit harder. She’d recovered enough to stand up by herself, but kept mashing her breasts into my chest and trying to lick my tonsils. When she straddled my leg and started rubbing her bush on my thigh, I cupped her sexy ass cheeks, picked her up and carried her there.
I laid Louise on the bed and then got in beside her. She threw one soft thigh over my belly, and then straddled me. It was a great ride, complete with all the little shuddering aftershocks as before. The last ones milked at my cock as Louise lay on my chest with her stiff nipples poking me. She stopped moving after a few minutes, and when I stroked her back, there was no response except a deep, slow breath. She was asleep. I gently rolled her to my side, covered us both up, and was soon asleep too.
I woke up the next morning to the unmistakable feeling of a soft hand jacking my shaft. I suppose that was why I’d been dreaming about Gloria doing the same thing. I opened my eyes and saw Louise smiling at me.
“It’s almost nine, and I have to meet my daughter for lunch, so I’ll have to think about this all day instead of doing it again. Could we do it again, though, sometime?”
Well, what does one say in a situation like this? Her lips were parted in that expression that you see in the movies just before the guy and girl start humping like rabbits. The rest of her was really, really inviting, and I really, really liked her extended orgasms. They made me feel pretty good about doing that for her. Yeah, I know, it probably wasn’t really me, but it still gave my ego a good boost.
“I suppose we could.”
Louise grinned and ran a red fingernail down my bare chest.
“Wanna come to my shop about six? I’ll let you try on anything you want…any way you want.”
I said I’d try, but that I had another case I still had to finish. Just before she walked out the door, Louise tried to tickle my tonsils with her tongue again. I was starting to need air when she pulled away and stroked my cheek.
“That’s so you won’t forget me, Honey.”
Then she turned and walked out the door.
I hoped Gloria had found out something about Angela’s mother, even if that something was that Helen was just enjoying herself. I hoped that was all that was happening. I’d done one investigation like this before. The female half of the couple was in serious love with the guy. I gather he was more than a little skilled in the bedroom, and had swept the sixty year old woman off her feet, so to speak.
He was more than a little skilled in the arts of the con as well. By the time her son called me, she’d bought him a Rolex watch, four suits from one of the Nashville shops that caters to the stars, and a shiny new red convertible. I was able to expose the con and get his ass sent to jail by offering to buy the convertible. He was pretty proud of how he’d talked the woman into buying it for him. My little hidden voice recorder captured it all.
The day went by slowly. Joe’s is closed on Sunday, so Gloria wouldn’t be there. I could have called her and gotten the information I needed, but if you’ve ever seen Gloria, you understand. It’s a lot nicer watching Gloria while she talks than listening to her on the phone. I did send her a text message saying I’d be over about three if she was available. At noon, I got the response that she’d be there and had what I’d asked her to get.
I drove over to Gloria’s house expecting a few pictures and Gloria’s tale of what had happened that Friday and Saturday night. Gloria’s a pretty sharp gal, and she’s able to get information from women sometimes that I never could. I had no doubts that the facts about Helen, what ever they were, would be recorded on her cell phone and in her memory.
When she answered her door on my second knock, I figured it was going to be a long, but very enjoyable afternoon and probably evening…and probably morning. Gloria was wearing this frilly negligee made of black lace and net that covered some of her sensuous ass and heavy breasts in a sort of see-through way. I couldn’t actually see her nipples, but I could see the big bumps they made in the lace that covered them. I couldn’t see her bush or the soft lips there either, but the way the lacy panties had slipped between those lips meant I didn’t have to imagine very much.
The rest of her was the naked, raw sensuality that is Gloria when she wants to be that way. I could feel my cock stirring as I walked through the door.
“I thought I’d dress up for you a little.”
“Gloria, that outfit wouldn’t keep you warm on a hot summer day.”
She licked her top lip with her little wet, pink tongue..
“I thought it might warm you up though.”
She was warming me up, and as much because of the way she licked her lip as because of the way she was dressed. Like I said, Gloria can be really sensuous when she wants to be. Evidently, she was in a very sensuous mood.
“You’re doing all that, but we have some business to take care of first. What did you find out.”
“Oh, a lot. Did you know those older men are horny as boy bunnies? They are. I danced with ten of them on Friday night. They all tried to get me to go home with them. One of them said he said he had a very talented tongue and he’d make sure I came six times. If I hadn’t had to follow Helen home, I might have gone with him.”
“OK, but what about Helen?”
“Well, I found her and just watched for a while. Then the guy with the talented tongue asked me to dance. He had the best hands. We were dancing a slow song and he let his hand slip down to my bottom. Well, you know what that does to me. I just had to snuggle up and push my boobs into his chest. He liked that a lot, I think, because I felt something poking my tummy. I asked if he was glad to see me again and he grinned and said –“
“Gloria…what about Helen?”
“I was coming to that. She’s not doing anything wrong, although her daughter would probably think so. She’s just having fun exploring herself.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let me show you the pictures I took.”
Helen looked just like the picture her daughter had shown me, except in that picture, her mother had on loose jeans and a sweatshirt. The woman in the pictures had on a black dress that hit her about six inches above the knees and plunged down low enough there was no way she could have been wearing any type of bra I’d ever seen. Her soft shoulders were bare except for the two straps that were somehow managing to keep those big puppies up and pushed together into a very delicious cleavage. If she thought like she dressed, Helen was a woman I’d have enjoyed knowing.
The first pics were of Helen sitting on a folding chair and talking with other women, most of who were wearing standard issue grandmother pantsuits or long dresses. In the middle were a few of her dancing with guys, including a three minute video of Helen and a guy dancing to a forties song by Tommy Dorsey.
The final pictures were interesting to say the least. Gloria had taken them from only a couple feet away from Helen, and I recognized the watch on the wrist of the hand fondling Helen’s bare breast.
“Gloria, you and Helen?”
“I said she was exploring herself.”
“It looks like you were doing some exploring too.”
“Well, I introduced myself, and we got to talking about things, I asked about the men and if they hit on her like they were hitting on me. She said they did and she’d been with one or two, but lately she liked things a little softer. I smiled at her and she smiled back at me. She touched my arm and asked if I liked soft things too.
“Well, you know I do, not better than I like being with you, Jerry, but I still like it. I probably shouldn’t have had that third screwdriver. I sort of let it slip out that I’d done that a couple times and it was fun. We ended up back at her house, and, well, you can tell her daughter she doesn’t need to worry about a man taking advantage of Helen. She’s too smart for that to ever happen. She also has this thing she did with me…well, it’s hard to explain. I’d have to show you.”
“Is that why you went back on Saturday?”
“Oh, no. The guy I was telling you about when you cut me off, the one with the magical hands, I went back to see him.”
“His hands aren’t the only thing he has that are magical. I didn’t stay all night with him, but it was really great.”
Now, that was a little much. I mean, I’d been fantasizing about a night with Gloria since I’d asked her to find out about Helen. She’d basically just compared me to Mr. Magic Hands and I didn’t like hearing what she said.
“So, you’ll be going with him now?”
“Oh no. He was good, once, but after that, I couldn’t get him uh…in the mood again. Once just makes me want more.”
Gloria untied the strings that kept her negligee around her soft breasts.
“You can do more than once, and I really need more than once.”
As Gloria shrugged off the negligee, then lifted her heavy right breast and stroked her nipple, I sort of forgot about being compared. When she rolled the lace panties down her thighs, I sort of forgot about Helen too. When she planted her mouth over mine, I sort of forgot how to do anything except grab her soft ass and run my fingertip down her crack. She shivered.
“Mmm…Horace didn’t do that to me.”
“The guy with the magic fingers, but I like your fingers better. Do it again.”
Well, I did and Gloria shivered again. Then she took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom. While I undressed, Gloria laid back on the bare sheet, spread her thighs wide, and held out her arms.
“Come show me all the magical things you have, Jerry.”
She thought my fingers were magic, I guess, at least her nipples popped right up all taut and full of little ridges when I tweaked them. She moaned when I slipped first one and then a second finger between her soft lips and trapped her clit between them. She pulled my face down to her right breast, and then used her hand to push the stiff nipple at my lips. It was so easy to just open my mouth and suck the turgid, thick nub.
Evidently, Horace hadn’t done much to take the edge off Gloria’s libido, because I’d just gotten started when she pushed me over, straddled me, and fished for my cock between her open thighs. She found it, stroked the head through her wet lips, and then groaned as she sank down over my length.
“Ah…that’s what I needed.”
With Gloria, the first time is usually a race to the finish because she can’t wait. I’ve never figured it out, because most women I’ve been with take a while to get to that magic moment. Gloria always seems to be teetering on the edge after only a few strokes and tugs to her thick nipples. This time was no different.
She rode my cock slowly for a while, and little moans kept slipping from her throat. Those little moans quickly became longer and louder, and the stroking hips started slapping into my thighs. When she put her hands on each side of my chest and leaned down, I knew she was close. I did what she always liked.
The first gentle nip on her left nipple made Gloria’s tummy roll and her hips slammed down on my thighs. The second, harder nip, started those gorgeous hips rolling at the same time they went up and down. The effect on me is difficult to explain, but suffice it to say, I began trying to remember the license plate number on the minivan. That gave me something to take my mind off the incredible sensations she was giving my cock.
I didn’t get past the first two digits before Gloria gasped.
“Oh God, Jerry. Don’t stop.”
Well, since I wasn’t really doing anything but laying there, I couldn’t stop anyway. I could start doing my part, though, and Gloria gasped when I rammed my cock up into her stroke. After three of those deep fast strokes, Gloria sagged into her arms a little, almost smothering me with her big breasts in the process, and started to pant. One more caused her body to stiffen as the wave started. I don’t really remember the last deep stroke. I was too busy holding on to her nipple with my teeth and her pounding ass with my hands.
It’s a really great feeling when cum races up though my cock and into any woman, but Gloria makes that feeling go from great to incredible. She puts so much of herself in what she’s doing. I don’t think she’s ever really in control then, and I don’t really care. It’s enough that she makes me pant and groan just as much as she is.
She was purring like a happy kitten when she eased her big breasts down on my chest and tucked her cheek against my neck.
“Mmm…that was fantastic.”
“Better than Horace?”
“Oh yeah. He was good, but this was wonderful.”
“Better than Helen, too?”
“Helen was different. You probably wouldn’t understand.”
Well, that night was pretty eventful, and I felt a little sorry for Horace. I mean, once just got Gloria really in the mood. The second time was slower, but the end was like nothing else, and the next morning was, well, you had to be there.
I got back to my office/apartment about ten because Gloria insisted on sucking me dry. Well, she really didn’t insist. She just wouldn’t let me get out of her bed until she’d cum again…twice. That second time pretty much did me in.
I took a shower and then collapsed on my couch. In a minute or so, I was taking a morning nap. I was too tired to do anything else.
My watch said two thirty when I woke up. After getting dressed, I made a pot of coffee and stood there trying to get everything moving again as I watched the pot fill. Then, I took a cup and went to my office.
I wasn’t sure how I was going to break the news to Angela that her mother was just having a good time. It was going to be even harder telling her that the woman who raised her had developed a taste for other women. Gloria had grinned when she told me Helen was exceptionally good at tasting them.
After I had written my report, I called Angela and asked her to meet me the next morning.
I was careful to be awake and dressed when she knocked on my door. I let her in and a young brunette followed her though my door. Angela turned to the brunette.
“This is Randy. We’re…friends, and she came along to help me if what you say is going to be bad.”
“It’s not bad, Angela. You’re mother is not senile by a long shot. She’s just having some fun. The “Second Chance” isn’t a swinger’s club, by the way. The swinging your mother does there is swing dancing. She’s pretty good too. I have a video I’ll to give you.
“She’s not going home with any men, though she seems to attract them. I can understand that. She’s a very nice looking woman, and I’d expect men to be attracted to her.”
“Then why wasn’t she home last Friday night? I called her six times from eight to midnight, and she didn’t answer.”
“Well, there’s no easy way to put this, but she was home…with the woman who helps me out sometimes.”
“Then why didn’t she answer her phone.”
“From what I gather from my helper, they were sort of uh…busy.”
“Doing what? Oh God…you mean Mom and your lady friend…”
“That’s about the size of it. My friend said your mother told her she likes things softer, sometimes. My friend does too, and I guess they hit it off.”
Angela sank back into her chair.
“I never would have guessed. I mean, I understand, but not Mom. Are you sure?”
“I have a couple of pictures if you need proof.”
“No, no, I don’t think I want to see my mother like that. I don’t know what to do now.”
Randy stroked Angela’s face.
“Honey, maybe you should go talk to her and tell her you know what she’s doing and that you think it’s all right. I’ll go with you if you want me to.”
“Then I’d have to explain about us.”
“Well, if she’s doing what Mr. Madison says she is, I think she’ll understand, wouldn’t she, Mr. Madison?”
“I can’t really answer that, but don’t sell your mother short. I doubt she’d be too critical of you, given the circumstances. You’re her daughter, after all, and if she’s decided girls are pretty nice, I don’t think she’d be too concerned about you having the same thoughts.”
I gave the pictures and the video to Angela, well, except for the two of Helen and Gloria. Randy wanted those, and when I asked Angela, she nodded. The last thing I heard when they walked out of my office was Randy saying, “Hey, Angie, you know that little mole on your right boob? Your mom has one in exactly the same place.”
Well, it’s almost five thirty, and if I walk fast, I can get to Louise’s shop before she closes up. I need a few more shirts and just can’t see paying the prices they want for new ones. Louise said she had something that would fit me, and that I could try it on any time I wanted. She also said I could try it on any way I wanted, and that piqued my curiosity. I’m not very creative where trying things on is concerned, but I’m sure Louise probably is. I think I’m going to really like trying on whatever she has and however she wants me to.